He made a sudden effort, threw off the cabman’s detaining hand, swayed a little and then steered a straight course for the cab, stumbling over the step and crawling in on his knees.

“Isn’t he a lad!” said the cabman admiringly.  “Pair of lads, that’s what you are!  By cripes, you are!  Where are you making for, missus?” His eyes, full of curiosity, were on the ship as a babble of voices rose.  “Listen, they’ve got ole monkey-face!  That’s him singing out now.  We’d better put our best leg forward for fear he comes after you.”

“If he does I shall put him back again,” she said; “we were going to the Hotel Australia—­but I don’t think I’ll take my husband there.  I think they mightn’t like him.  Do you know anywhere else we could go—­a house—­where there are poor people who won’t be rude to me about him?”

He thought for a moment.  Then his face brightened.

“I know the very place, ma.  It’s quite near.  The boss boozes, but Ma’s a good sort.  She’ll have a room, sure.  It’s all among the Chows, if you don’t mind that.”

“Chows—­what are Chows?”

“Chinese—­Chinks—­a good many white people won’t live among them.”

“If they don’t object to us, I’m sure I shall not to them.”

The next minute she was sitting beside Louis, but he was fast asleep.

“Louis,” she whispered, shaking him gently.  He stirred and muttered, but could not waken.  She stared at him in the passing light of the street lamps.  He looked so helpless, so much at her mercy.  Quite unexpectedly she leaned over and kissed the tip of his ear.  Next minute she was sobbing uncontrollably, leaning against his arm.

“Oh, why didn’t I go in the water?  I can’t bear it—­I can’t!  I’ll never be able to go through with it!  I’m making him no better—­and no one can keep on being disappointed and disappointed and still keeping their faith.  Even to-day, when I ought to have been so happy.”

She sat up suddenly, and turned away from Louis, holding out longing arms for the softness of her mother, the autocratic strength of her father.  But she had to dry her eyes quickly because the cabman had stopped and was speaking through the window.

“Here we are, ma,” he said.

She wrestled with her voice.

“Do you mind—­will you ask her, please?  I’ve been crying, and I look such an idiot.”

“Right-o, ma.  But don’t bother about that.  Mrs. King has had her share o’ crying in her time.  She won’t think nothing of that.”

She realized that it was necessary to waken Louis as she heard the door open and a conversation between two people.  A little figure of a woman came out to the cab and spoke to her.

“It’s all right, my dear,” she said quietly.  “I’ve got a top room.  I’ll be glad to let you have it.”

“It’s very kind of you,” said Marcella.  “My husband is—­rather—­asleep.  How on earth am I going to get him upstairs?”